Pillow Fight
by Phayzer
Summary: I don't know where I am, or how I got here. I don't remember why. I guess I'm not allowed to know. *Crona. AU. One Shot.*


Pillow Fight.

(Crona AU)

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**Wow, you clicked on it. O.o Helloooo. This is really just a practise doing first person POV and present tense at the same time. Never done either before sooo I don't know how it turned out :s**

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My arms tight around my torso, fingers gripping the fabric of my clothes. Bony knees bent. Back on the smooth, cold ground. Toes pushing at the wall. This is how I wake.

I don't know where I am, or how I got here. I don't remember why. I guess I'm not allowed to know.

I have been here for a while though. That much I do know. The hard concrete ground and cold walls are now familiar, and the scratch marks filling the corner's space are my own. I can't reach the ceiling.

My head hurts. Maybe I hit it before? I don't remember. It fells like it. If I sit up the ground will stop touching it, and the throbbing might go away.

My fingers curl tighter around my clothes.

But what will happen if I get up? I feel safer on the ground in the position I awoke in. This throbbing hurts though. My spine is starting to as well. _Can_ I sit up?

I slowly unlatch my fingers, my arms growing just a bit looser from the motion.

It feels like I can. Nothing is broken. Why did I need to check? I don't remember ever having something broken.

I lightly lift my head, neck straining as my spine presses deeper to the floor.

I'll sit in that corner, the one at my toes. It looks safe. It is where I always sit. Though, I will have to move my whole body. That might be difficult. Painful, even. But I must stop the aching. And the ceiling is getting boring to gaze at.

With a tongue to hold back the wince from escaping my throat, I lift my back up with my elbows underneath. I couldn't keep the cracking sound from echoing back to my ears, like laughter.

Hands to the ground, and knees to my chest, I slowly lean my back into the corner.

I'm up. My arms now wrapped around my folded legs like a snake.

I feel smaller like this. But, that's ok. Being smaller means I would be harder to see. And that's good, right? I don't want to be found after all.

I place my chin softly atop my uncomfortable knees to rest my head. Unfortunately, it still throbbed in my skull. How do I stop it now? I'm out of ideas...

Strands of my pale pink hair brush over my vision. It's short, that's all I really know of it. I don't bother to take a look in my mirror. I don't think I can anyway.

I am wearing an orange and black jumpsuit of sorts. It's comfortable, I guess. Smooth. I don't remember what I used to wear, if I didn't have this on. Have I always had this on? I don't know. I would like something black. A coat, maybe. I like black. Always have.

The shadeless globe lives dimly in this room. I hate it. It would be nice for it to go away. If it did, then everything would be black.

I squeeze my legs tighter with my weak arms. I let my nails dig in to the clothing, the fabric itching underneath.

Something is missing. Though my clothes hang nice and loose on my body, brushing my skin, I am uncomfortable. And it's not because of the head ache pushing at my eyes. Holding myself tighter doesn't seem to help this feeling. What was not present?

Ah, my pillow, that must be it. I like my pillow. It's softer than my clothes. Warm, too. It doesn't mind being hugged, or complain when I softly press my face into it. It just bends into me. Cuffing me in what seemed to be it's own embrace. But, where was it?

I cast my eyes over the room for the first time since I woke. Though the light is painfully dim, I can make out the bed.

There it is, atop the neat bed is my white pillow. It sits on the end of the furniture, moving slightly as the unpleasant draft of air brushes it's skin, as did my own hair.

Oh no.

My stomach churns in the pit of my being.

It's on the other side of the room. In the opposite corner to where I have stationed my comfort. I can't hope to reach it, not with it being so far.

My fingers start to pick at my legs by themselves. I let them.

I don't want to move. It was feat enough that I'm upright and felling safe. Am I felling safe? How do I know...

I look back to the linin covered bed, pillow having not moved any closer to my dismay. Not that I blamed it.

I will be fine with out it, I try to conclude.

_But I'm not fine._

Is that why I'm here?

My fingers scratch at my cloths now. I press my forehead to my legs, squeezing tighter with my arms, like my own appendages could be a substitute for the item I couldn't hope to reach. But, my legs aren't warm, they are mostly cold actually. Like the floor and walls. They aren't soft either, quite the opposite. Hard, and skinny.

I close my eyes.

I like my pillow. I _really_ do.

To get to it, I would have to pass the toilet, the sink with my mirror, and the metal door with no handle. And back again.

I push my back further into the crevice.

Why did I do that? I want to get closer to my pillow, not further away.

The fact that my spine now scraped the wall is the alarming proof that I couldn't go any further. This is it. I am cornered with nowhere to go.

My ribs quivering, I lift my head to peak over my knees and back to my pillow. It is still sitting atop the bed. Damn. I really shouldn't hope for anything else though.

Should I get it?

I wriggle my toes.

It feels like I can stand. When did I do that last? I don't know...

My fingers now latch to my ankles. I try to move them, but they are like stone.

Well, now I really can't stand.

Ragnarok, let go.

Ragnarok, should I get it?

No answer.

Oh no, did I anger him? I'm sorry. You can hold on if you want. I don't need it...

I'm fine.

_But I'm not._

Why am I here?

I like it here. In the corner, that is. With my pillow, too.

Maybe it will come on it's own. Maybe I'll awake again, and it will be back in my arms. I will wake with my head in the soft caress of my pillow's warmth. If it wants to be with me, that is.

My head leans to the side, far enough to softly hit the wall next to me.

Ah, Ragnarok, please be gentle. I already have a pain inside my head. I don't need one on top as well.

Ah, your right. No one what's to be with me, the pillow no different.

My head rears to the other side, hitting the opposite wall, though a little harder.

Ragnarok, please. Stop. This is hurting.

That's why I'm here? Nobody wants to be with me?

Not even Pillow?

OW, Ragnarok, STOP IT.

I close my eyes again as my head falls back, stopping only to collide with my corner. My fingers grow looser, and my arms drop from my tight ball.

The throwing of my head stops, though my aching is now worse. Now how am I going to get rid of it? I was already out of ideas...I don't know how to deal with it being worse.

With my legs unbound, I regrettably reconsider going to get my pillow. But, no. It doesn't want to be with me. To deal with me.

My body is starting to feel tired, my vision blurring somewhat, and I start to lean to the side.

With my head hurting this much, I don't have to think about my back...

My body lowers until I'm on my side, spine still to the wall. I close my eyes. Though there is nothing to look at under my eyelids, I like what I see.

Black. I like black.

Always have.

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**R and R!...Though I hope you've already read it so you can just review now!...or not you know...I'm not your boss...**


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